


The Shadow Between Us

by Monalisasandmadhatters20



Series: Shadow [1]
Category: Rocketman (2019), Rocketman (2019) RPF
Genre: Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Bad BDSM Etiquette, Dom/sub Undertones, F/M, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, JohnReidisanass..., M/M, Self-Harm
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-19
Packaged: 2021-02-27 13:19:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 14
Words: 16,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22177684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Monalisasandmadhatters20/pseuds/Monalisasandmadhatters20
Summary: Bernie Taupin couldn’t remember the last time anything in his life went according to plan.  It irritated him to no end that just when things appeared to settle down, when his life could finally begin to be considered normal, a wrench never fucking failed to be thrown in the mix...And of course that wrench usually went by the name of Elton John.
Relationships: Bernie Taupin/Original Female Character(s), Elton John & Bernie Taupin, Elton John/John Reid
Series: Shadow [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1603774
Comments: 6
Kudos: 12





	1. Elton's no good, terrible, very bad day

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real people and situations that may or may not have happened. I hope you enjoy the ride as I delve into this plot that just will not leave my mind. Comments and kudos appreciated.

The day started like any other: waking up encased in the arms of his beloved, a lazy and contented smile on his face. A few moments of stolen kisses and good morning, love’s. A hot shower shared with his love, along with a ‘breakfast’ of cocaine and screwdrivers and cigarettes in the living area of their hotel suite. If he could just get passed the constant gnawing in the back of his mind that today _was_ different then every other day he would be pleased with this lazy Saturday morning.

His best mate was to be married today.

He chewed on his lip, watching John shrug his white shirt over his shoulders. He watched as John meticulously buttoned each button with an ease Elton never had even whilst sober, while his cigarette shook between his fingers. He hugged his knees to his chest to stop his trembling hands.

Not only was his best mate to be married today, but he was to be the best man.

John looked at Elton with concern etched on his painfully handsome face. “Alright, love?,” he asked, his brow furrowed in confusion. He had grown used to the turbulent emotions his boyfriend felt on a regular basis, but something seemed undeniably _off_ this morning. Elton could only nod, a grimace on his face. John sat beside him on the sofa, his head tilted to the side and a bemused smile on his face. 

He cupped Elton’s cheek in his hand, smirking when Elton leaned into the tender touch. “Don’t lie to me, love. You know I know you better than you do yourself,” he said sternly, his grip a bit tighter, taking slight pleasure in Elton’s wince. “What is going on in your pretty little head, love. Talk to me, baby,” he cooed, pressing Elton’s face to his chest. 

“Bernie is getting married today,” Elton whispered miserably.

“Yes, I know that, love,” John said slowly, doing his best to understand. “That’s why I am getting dressed, and I said you should be as well. We are expected at the church within the hour. Now what’s the true problem, love, so we can move on?”

Elton lifted his head, an almost frenzied look in his eyes. “Bernie is getting married today and I’m supposed to be his best man,” Elton said, pulling at his hair to center himself. “I’m supposed to be happy he’s getting hitched, yeah? I’m supposed to show some semblance of support in his union, but I… I don’t think I can.”

John snorted as he got to his feet. “Oh is that all? For Christ’s sake, of _course_ you can’t. You’re so hung up on him I’m surprised you remember I’m your boyfriend most of the time, Elton,” John said, tucking his shirt into his neatly pressed trousers. “But you will show support. You will give a speech, drink, and be merry, or the press will have a field day. I forbid anything less,” he continued, as he returned to the mirror. He pushed a stray hair behind his ear. “Get dressed, we are leaving soon. It’s a big day, after all.” John smirked darkly. “Your first love is marrying a delightful woman after finding you wanting. More’s the pity, I suppose...”

“No need to be such an arse about it, John,” Elton huffed, ashing out his cigarette. He stood, tying his dressing gown closed. “I’m too sober for this shite. Where’d you hide the vodka, then?”

“Get dressed Elton. You can drink on the way if you are so keen on destroying your friendship with your idiotic insecurities. We will not be late because you feel the need to throw a tantrum an hour before the... festivities.... Begin.”

Elton groaned. “Festivities my arse… This is without a doubt the worst day of my life,” he said, slamming the door the bedroom shut.

“Of course it is. Of course it is,” John muttered, glaring at the door. “Drama, drama, drama… I don't get paid enough for the bullshite...”

*********************

Bernie Taupin couldn’t remember the last time anything in his life went according to plan. Even today, his bloody wedding day, didn’t go according to their perfectly laid plans. It irritated him to no end that just when things appeared to settle down, when his life could finally begin to be considered _normal_ , a wrench never fucking failed to be thrown in the mix... 

And of course that wrench usually went by the name of Elton John. 

He tapped his fingers against the arm of the hard plastic chair in the hospital waiting room, doing his best to remain calm. His thoughts continued to spiral from vexed to concerned to numb as he awaited the news of his oldest mate’s condition.

 _He ALWAYS fucking does this… His life of excess will be the bloody death of me…,_ he thought, folding his arms across the front of his wrinkled and blood stained black tux, a pout forming on his face. _Or the death of my marriage, that’s for certain…_

He gazed up at the wall clock. He let out a dejected sigh. The wedding reception would soon be over, (if it hadn’t ended when he left after finding Elton so hurt, so needing, so _him..._ ) and he knew without a doubt his new wife was cross with him. Within hours of reciting his vows to never let anything come between them, he found himself sitting alone in the empty room with her hardly even in his thoughts. 

He winced, thinking of how Alex had screeched incoherently when he jumped in the back of the ambulance. Bernie had only shrugged back at her, taking Elton’s cool hand in his own, unable to speak as he choked back the sobs that threatened to overtake him. 

_How could I not, though?,_ he reasoned, picking the stray lint off his trousers. Elton had no one _true_ in his corner, after all. The only one with whom Bernie had counted beside him had been the cause of this ruined night. All those in their circle cared for were the perks of being seen with _the_ Elton John. No one knew the turmoil he hid within. No one but he and John fucking Reid, that was. 

_May he rot in hell…,_ he thought angrily, as ran his fingers through his messy hair for the millionth time within hours.

He got to his feet with a groan. He winced as he pressed his hand to his side. _Maybe I should get myself checked out while I’m here as well… Fucker got a good few in it seems,_ he thought, as he limped to the payphone. Putting a dime in the machine, he dialed his home number. _Have to face the wrath sometime…,_ he supposed, looking up at the ceiling. _One ring… Two ring… Three ring…_

_“Bernie Taupin, this had better be you.”_

He winced. “Yes, Alex, it’s me.”

_“So, what’s going on? Is the bitch alright? What’s happening?”_

“I haven’t heard anything since he went back for surgery. Did the police come?”

_“Yes. He was taken in not long after you left. He covered his tracks pretty well, though, Bernie. From what I heard Reid had the police convinced it was mostly self-inflicted madness...”_

Bernie closed his eyes. "Of course he did... He has a way with words, Reid does... That’s uh... good, though he was taken.” Bernie scuffed his dress shoe on the tile floor, coming up short on what to say. “I’m… uh… I’m sorry for leaving you to deal with the madness, Alex. I wasn’t really thinking when I jumped in with him. It… It wasn’t right, I know that. This isn’t what our life will be, I swear it.” Bernie felt his heart stuttered to a stop as his words were met with silence.

 _“There is no need to lie. Yes, it will, Bernie. He will always come first for you, I have grown to understand that. It’s hard... I always thought one day I might gain some traction with you and maybe become first in your heart, but it won’t happen. It is hard to deal with, but deal I will… I understand in another life, maybe another time, it would be him wearing your ring, and I am thankful for now, it is my hand your ring lays.”_ She sighed. _“Take care of your friend, Bernie. I’ll be waiting for you here when you are ready to come home.”_

Bernie found himself listening to the busy signal for a bit before slowly hanging up the receiver. More questions than answers swirled within his mind as he limped back to his seat. Just when things were supposed to be just grand, of course...

_A wrench named Elton John indeed..._


	2. Roses and Lilies and love shared between them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real people and situations that may or may not have happened. I hope you enjoy the ride as I delve into this plot that just will not leave my mind. Comments and kudos appreciated.

It was purely fate that brought them together. Bernie’s mum had sent off his sheets of finished poems after she dug them out of the rubbish bin. He never expected to receive a call about them. He never expected to receive homemade tapes in the mail with  _ his  _ words as lyrics. Nor had he ever expected to think they were actually any good. 

But they were. The young man who took his darkest days and set them to music had talent. A talent Bernie was quite jealous of, if he was honest with himself.

Sitting at the small cafe with the man who called himself Elton John was surreal. He had planned to throw dead chickens in a wheelbarrow for the rest of his life: not smart enough to finish school, not strong enough for regular farm work, and he had grown fine with the situation. He had planned to grow even more fine with it as his life went out, and here he was… Granted an out from a life of slave labor and minimal pay. 

How could he refuse?

Many times over the course of their working and personal relationship, though, Bernie wondered if he would have better off slopping around in the muck and throwing the dead chickens in his wheelbarrow. Watching his Reggie go from the sweet boy next door, the boy Bernie adored more than anything in the world, to the obnoxious celebrity who believed the world revolved only to cater to his every whim was heartbreaking. 

He should have fucking refused…

Stuck in Reg’s childhood bedroom, sleeping on the bunkbeds he and Reg’s stepfather set up, Bernie spent his nights daydreaming about their ‘big break’. (And getting drunk or high… Mostly getting drunk and high…) Many a night they both ended up entangled with each other on the bottom bunk, him much too inebriated to make it up the wretched ladder to the top. They explored each other in ways two men were not ‘supposed’ to. Bernie knew Reg’s body, and he knew his, even while sober. 

They were young, they were fit, and they were horny. It was not supposed to be more than just release after a harsh day at DJM, and an even harsher evening with Sheila Dwight. Bernie knew Reg caught ‘feelings’ for him, but this was not part of the plan for Bernie’s life. Bernie ensured he made it to the top bunk more often than not thereafter.

He never expected to catch ‘feelings’ himself.

Seeing the newly minted Elton with the handsome and charismatic John Reid the night after the performance at the Troubadour had been a punch to the gut. He threw the bouquet of lilies he had brought with him to celebrate Reg’s successful show in the rubbish bin before backing slowly out the door. He thought no one saw him enter the small dressing room, but the smirk on Reid’s face just before he pulled Reg in for a loving kiss could only prove otherwise.

****************

“Look what John sent me!,” Elton exclaimed the moment Bernie entered their small hotel room. Three dozen red and yellow roses sat proudly in their vases. A large stuffed bear lay across Elton’s side of the bed. Bernie looked away, unable to take the unending joy that seemed to radiate from his best mate.

“Oh Bernie! I think I’m in love!,” Elton exclaimed, falling back on the mattress and hugging the stuffed bear to his chest. 

“Of course you are,” Bernie muttered, glaring darkly at roses. Roses he could not afford. Lilies that were bought with his last american dollars and were only trashed, because of his own insecurities. He folded his arms across his chest, doing his best not to pout like a toddler. “You deserve them, mate.”

“He even sprayed a bit of his cologne on the bear. It’s like he’s here with me, Bernie,” Elton continued happily, hugging the bear even closer, unaware of the dark cloud he was creating within Bernie’s soul. “I am going out with him after the show tonight. Don’t wait up. He wants to show me around town.”

_ He probably wants to show you more than that, mate, _ Bernie thought. “That’s wonderful, Reg. I’m going out. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Elton sat up quickly. “What? You just got back. I wanted to play you something I wrote this afternoon. Bernie-”

But Bernie never acknowledged him as he all but ran out of the room. 


	3. Tears of blood, heart of ice.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real people and situations that may or may not have happened. I hope you enjoy the ride as I delve into this plot that just will not leave my mind. Comments and kudos as always are appreciated.

“Alright, poppet?”

Bernie stared at his reflection in the full length mirror in the groom’s quarters of the small church, still unable to believe this day had come. At twenty years of age he was lucky enough to find the woman of his dreams. The female love of his life, that is. He looked over his shoulder, taking in his mother’s face. Lined with age and laughter, full of adoration and love for her youngest son, and smiled softly. “I reckon so, mum. I’m getting married today to a great woman. What more could a man ask for?”

His smile widened when his father wrapped an arm around his mother. They were now just over thirty years married and still as deeply in love as when they met. Bernie could only pray he and Alexandria would have the same love that could span decades. “We are so lucky to have you as our son, Bernard,” he said, his voice gruff with repressed emotions. “Alex is a wonderful woman, and will make a wonderful wife for you. Just remember to keep her first in your heart and you will also be able to have the long lasting love like your mother and I share.”

Bernie nodded, the smile less bright than it was before. He knew that that would be almost impossible, no matter how hard he tried to convince himself otherwise. It was not Alex that was first in his heart, even after almost three years of dating. 

It was Reg. It would always be Reg.

Bernie cleared his throat, refusing once more to go on that rabbit trail. It never led to anything good. He needed his wits about him today while he recited the biggest lie of his life. “Well, I reckon it’s time to get our front, innit? Wouldn’t want to keep the princess waiting, aye?”

Bernie ignored the stricken look his parents gave each other as he headed out to the sanctuary. It was then that they truly understood his heart, but bless them, they would love him anyway. _Things will go to plan,_ he promised himself _, no matter what bloody happens around me._ _So what if I’m making the biggest mistake of my life? Of her life? I am comfortable enough in the closet I’ve made my home, thank you very much. It’s going to be golden. Golden…_

No matter how hard he tried, no matter how many people he convinced otherwise, he couldn’t convince himself.

  
  


*********************

Bernie felt his breath catch when he made eye contact with Reg as soon as he walked through the doorway. Reg stood up front, the light blue tux bringing out the beauty of his eyes. His eyes that were for once barely hidden by normal eyeglasses and not his normal monstrosities. He was laughing heartily with Bernie’s siblings, no doubt regaling them stories of their ridiculous escapades. Bernie couldn’t remember the last time he saw Reg look so happy, so whole. Bernie took in the moment with a small smile on his face. Reg’s own smile widened when he saw Bernie begin the steady trek towards the pulpit. 

_He’s so handsome when he smiles,_ came the stray thought before he could clamp it down. Bernie averted his eyes quickly, smiling at his future in-laws and the rest of the friends and family on the bride’s side, like this day was all he ever wished for, and not the day he could only dread.

 _Why did I do this to myself?_ , Bernie wondered when he reached the edge of the aisle. _I haven't seen him in years, and now to have him so close, yet so far... I really do hate myself it seems, to cause such turmoil with in._ Reg was still staring at him, with both joy and undisguised lust in his eyes that was mirrored in his own. Bernie held him close, closer than they had been in years, unable to keep his hands off the man he had loved so much, once. “Thank you for coming, mate. Thank you for agreeing to be my best man. There is no one I’d rather have by my side while I marry the woman of my dreams.”

The fact Bernie did not say ‘love of my life’ as most men did on their wedding day did not escape Elton’s grasp. He had to stamp down the hope that began to blossom in his heart before he did something foolish, like leap for joy.

Elton grimaced instead. “John ensured I made it. Wouldn’t have without him. You know how mornings find me when I'm not on a bender, of course. I don't think I pay him enough for all I put him through.”

Bernie caressed Elton’s cheek, unable to stop himself when in such close proximity, as he stared closely into Reg's eyes. “You’re makeup is running, mate. No surprise, of course, it's hot as hell in here. But, mate, why do you have a bruise around your eye?”

Elton pulled away quickly, looking in every direction but Bernie's. “I don’t, mate. I haven’t been sleeping properly is all. No need to fuss like a mother hen, alright?”

Bernie shook his head exasperatedly. “I’ve known you for years, Reg. That is _not_ because you haven’t been sleeping. I know the circles that surround _both_ eyes when you are lacking rest. This is only your left eye. You can try to fool yourself, but you should know by now you can't fool me... Someone hurt you. Someone has _been_ hurting you. Who hurt you, Reg? Was it Reid?”

Elton nodded at the organist as he began to play the wedding march. “Eyes steady, mate. It’s your time now. Don’t worry about little old me. You haven't in years, of course, why change now? Focus on the _woman of your bloody dreams_ , now aye?,” he sneered, effectively ending their conversation. He smirked, knowing he had won this round in their constant and toxic game they played with each other. The dance that would never end, until one of them did.

Bernie groaned quietly at Reg’s stupid smirk, turning to face front with a quiet promise that the conversation was not over. 

He couldn’t help the small smile graced his lips at the view, however. Alexandria certainly did make a beautiful bride.

***************

Bernie sat at the head table, already quite tired of the constant stream of well-wishers. His vodka and tonic and his marlboro cigarette all seemed stale on his tongue as he smiled and thanked all of whom came up to them. He tried to ignore the gnawing in the pit of his stomach that something was wrong as the empty seat to his left taunted him: Reg’s seat. It had only be warmed for a few moments before John fucking Reid stormed to the head table, a look of fury on his face. He spoke quietly, yet urgently, into Reg’s ear, and pulled him somewhere unknown with such force Bernie was certain Reg’s arm was pulled out of its socket. Bernie had stood to follow, only to be yanked back down by the arm himself. With a quick shake of Alex’s head, she hissed in his ear, _He’s not a damsel in distress, Bernie. He is a big boy_. _He can take care of himself. I will cut off your dick if you think about getting up to ‘rescue’ him for humiliating me today. Let's at least pretend this is what you wanted, for one day, shall we?_

 _If only she knew the extent to which he could NOT take care of himself,_ Bernie thought, lighting another cigarette, and flagging down yet another vodka and tonic. It was going to be a long night, Bernie knew. The food hadn't even been served yet, and he was already halfway to tipsy. 

“ _Bernard_ , I don’t see your stupid little friend anywhere. It’s almost time for his speech. Where the hell is he? He _knows_ his speech starts at 6, so Denise can do hers at 6:15..,” Alex hissed into Bernie’s ear. “You promised he wouldn’t do this, Bernie. You promised he wouldn’t ruin our big day. And yet he’s missing when it’s almost time for his only part in it!”

“Am I finally allowed to go look for him, then, _Alexandria_?,” Bernie asked, waving his hand tiredly towards Dick James and Ray Williams before they came into the fray. He didn't need their bosses hearing such domestic 'bliss'. _Later_ , he had mouthed to them, gladdened when he received their nods. He waved down another drink. “Only, I tried to go twenty minutes ago and you threatened to castrate me if I even so much as thought of it, remember?”

Alex rolled her blue eyes, so much like _his_ at that moment, even with the pure rage directed at him, (Bernie had to clear his throat as he felt his heart thunder again), he pushed a stray blonde hair behind her ear. “Yes, _Bernard_ , go get that stupid fellow, won’t you? My reception won’t be ruined because of his antics. Reign him in and make sure he’s not even tipsy before you bring him through that door again.”

Bernie snorted. “Good luck on that, love,” he muttered, getting to his feet. “He’s been drunk since I met him, I swear it.” 

He downed his liquor in one gulp as he weaved his way around the tables. He walked down the hallway he thought he saw Reid pull Reg to. Ears straining he could almost make out whimpers. Bernie quickened his pace. Someone was hurt, and he knew just who it had to be.

He pressed his ear against the door and listened.


	4. Life Crumbles Before Them

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real people and situations that may or may not have happened. I hope you enjoy the ride as I delve into this plot that just will not leave my mind. Comments and kudos appreciated.

Elton moaned in pain when John threw him so suddenly against the door of the closet after slamming it shut. He gasped when John wrapped his hand around his throat, making it so hard to even take tiny breaths. White dots blurred his vision. He would surely pass out soon if John did not give. His whole body shuddered when John leaned close, his hot breath ghosting Elton's ear for just a moment before he whispered, “I saw you with him. I saw him touching you so gently, so tenderly, like you were deserving of such rot. How _stupid_ are you to allow that in front of so many witnesses, pet? How stupid were you to do that in front of _me_?”

Elton tried to shake his head, John’s grip just too strong. “Please, no, you misunderstood what you saw, love,” he managed to gasp out, fisting his hands by his sides so he wouldn’t try to pull away. He knew better, particularly when John was in such a mood. It would only lead to more pain. “Please, John, I... can’t... breathe!”

John threw Elton to the floor. The disgust and anger radiating from John made Elton shudder more than the pain in his head from the fall, however. He hadn’t seen this side of John in so long he couldn’t stop the fear from overtaking him. He whimpered as John grabbed him by the hair, lifting him sharply to his knees. He flinched when John squatted in front of him, his mouth to his ear yet again. 

“I ‘misunderstood what I saw’, did I? So you didn’t lean into _his_ hug, lean into _his_ caress, bring your lips so close to his while speaking you could have kissed him? On his wedding day, no less.” He pulled at his hair sharply, smirking at Elton’s strangled hiss of pain. “I think you need to show me how sorry you are, pet,” he continued. “I think you need to show me how far you’ll go for me. What do you think?”

Elton nodded quickly. “Yes, please John, I love you and only you. Let me show you, please?”

“Take off your dinner jacket, Elton, and hand it to me, please,” John instructed as he stood up. Elton unbuttoned the tuxedo jacket with clumsy fingers, handing it in a ball to John as quickly as he could. John straightened it and put it over his forearm. “Take off your shirt and hand that to me as well, Elton.” Slower this time, but Elton handed it to John as well. “Take the knife out of my ankle sheath, Elton. Take it gently into your hand,” John instructed. “Ordinarily I would be the one to punish you, but you have wronged me, so you will do so. Do you understand?”

Elton nodded quickly. “Anything you want.” _Anything that will get me back to Bernie_ , he thought, placing the knife to his skin. John had had him do this before. He knew this game well. He knew where to cut. He knew how deep to cut. He knew how to please him. He waited for John’s nod before slicing through his skin.

He whimpered, more for show than any true pain. The sooner he could get John’s cock hard, the sooner he could stop the madness. The sooner he could take John’s cock in his mouth and pleasure him, the sooner he could get back to the reception. The sooner he could show John he loved him more than anything, John would go back to the loving and sweet man Elton fell in love with after their first date.

He just needed to try harder. He needed to stop being such a failure. He needed to stop causing John such pain. John only wanted what was best for him. _I need… I need…_

A sharp pain, then nothing but darkness.

********************

“You fucking idiot! You knocked him over when he was cutting near a vein!”

“Why the fuck were you letting him cut himself, Reid?”

“You don’t understand what he needs, little Taupin, and you never will! Get the fuck out of the way and call a medic. I need to put pressure on the bleeding before he bleeds out.”

“You go call the fucking medics. It’s your arse on the line if he fucking dies!,” Bernie yelled, pushing John out the door with strength he didn’t know he had. He fell to his knees beside Elton, feeling the blood seep into his trousers. The shock of it all made Bernie pause.

Bernie shook his head. "Need to focus dammit!," he exclaimed before he grabbed Elton’s shirt from the floor. He wrapped it around the gaping wound. He lifted Elton up and cradled his upper body close to him. He buried his face in Elton’s hair, breathing in his scent. Tears streamed unchecked from his eyes as he rocked him back and forth. “You’re going to be alright, Reg. You’re going to be alright. Stay with me, love. Stay with me. You’re going to be alright,” Bernie barely choked out through his sniffles. "This wasn't supposed to happen. This SHOULDN'T have happened. Come back to me, love."

“Be-Bernie?,” Elton asked, his voice barely a whisper. He coughed harshly, shuddering in pain. 

Bernie held him closer.

“Yes, love, it’s me. I’m here. You’re going to be okay.” 

“J-John?”

“Went to call the medics for you. Stay with me, love, please.”

“Hurts…”

“I know, you foolish man. I know.”

“Heart… hurts…”

“You’re sad?”

Elton nodded. “Love you, Be-Bernie,” he managed, before losing consciousness once more.

“I love you, too, Reg… So much,” he whispered brokenly, praying to any God that would listen to save his love from all of their foolishness.


	5. Forgive me, brother.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real people and situations that may or may not have happened. I hope you enjoy the ride as I delve into this plot that just will not leave my mind. Comments and kudos appreciated.

Bernie finally felt comfortable enough to shut his eyes. It had been a long night in the hospital’s waiting room, awaiting news that seemed to never come. The hard chairs were not fit for any semblance of comfort in his darkest time. The constant beeps of the machines that proved his Reggie was still alive gave Bernie the confidence he needed to close his eyes and try to rest.

Reggie wasn’t well, but he was stable and for that Bernie was grateful. 

Bernie needed to be rested for the trials that were to come. He may have gotten his mate away from Reid for the moment, but he would not fool himself into thinking it would for good. Reg’s world revolved around Reid. Their personal and professional relationship interwoven so tight that Bernie was surprised Reg was able to keep them seperate.

Reg loved that arsehole, no matter what he did to him.

Bernie stretched his arms above his head. The satisfying crack of his back and neck seemed to echo in the tiny room. He took a long sip of the bland black coffee (which tasted more like water than any coffee Bernie had ever drank in his life) as he gazed at the phone. His stomach dropped. He hadn’t talked to Alex in hours, and he feared calling her now. As wonderful as she seemed when he spoke with her, he knew it wouldn’t last.

He loved her, though, even though she hated everything about his life. Everything...

At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.

He watched the soft rise and fall of Reg’s chest. He took his still cool hand in his own, amazed once again at how such small hands could make such powerful music. He squeezed Reg’s hand. “You’re going to be okay, love. Come back to me soon, please. I don’t want to live without you,” Bernie whispered, feeling hot tears prick his eyes once again. He brought Reg’s hand to his cheek. “I can’t live without you.” 

***********************

“How… Touching…”

Bernie spun around so fast he felt his head spin. “What are you doing here, Reid?,” he growled, getting to his feet quickly. “Don’t come any closer or I swear I’ll… I’ll…?”

“What, stutter at me?,” John asked, a smirk on his face. He rubbed his ring on his somehow still pristine suit jacket, not a hair out of place. Bernie felt so small, so insignificant, in comparison. “I’m here now. You should know better than to assume you will ever win this delightful little game we play. Run home to your new wife, little Taupin, I told her I’d send you on your merry way when I checked in just a little bit ago. I’ll ring you with any news.”

“You spoke to my wife? And she sent you here?”

John nodded. “How else was I to know where my client was being treated? She is a lovely woman, little Taupin. You should be grateful she even gives you the time of day and stop trying to take what’s mine. I can and will ruin you, little Taupin, if you don’t leave us be. Right. Now,” John continued, the smirk still on his face belying the thunder in his voice. Bernie didn’t move. John shrugged. “Look, mate, if I ever wanted to work in this town again, I’d leave now. But that’s just me. I mean, I don’t have a new wife and baby on the way to care for.”

“Baby?,” Bernie whispered.

“Oh she didn’t tell you yet? My mistake. What’s your decision then, little Taupin? I can ruin her also quite easily for being pregnant before your wedding day. Would be a pity if your stubbornness caused such drama for such a delightful woman, eh?”

Bernie growled, knocking his shoulder into Reid as he stormed out of the room. _Forgive me, Reg…_ _I’m stuck, you’re stuck, and I don’t know how to fix this just yet._

But he would fix it. Bernie wouldn’t rest until he figured out a way to save them both.


	6. You’ll never be loved properly, alone

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real people and situations that may or may not have happened. I hope you enjoy the ride as I delve into this plot that just will not leave my mind. Comments and kudos appreciated.

“Have you heard anything from Bernie yet, John?”

John sighed deeply. Every morning, without fail, when Elton awoke he asked him the same question, and every morning, without fail, John fought the urge to strangle him. Taupin was NOT someone John enjoyed even thinking about. _At least he finally only asks me once a day, rather than hundreds,_ John reasoned, running his fingers up and down Elton’s back comfortingly. “No, love, I still haven’t heard from him and neither has Alex. I told you I would tell you if I had.”

Elton nodded, snuggling closer into John’s bare chest. He ran his fingers through the coarse and curly hair that grew from his chest. “I’m sorry. I worry about him, is all,” he whispered, his voice growing less broken each day. “It isn’t like him to disappear like this, and it’s been months now.” 

Disappear ‘ _from me’_ was finally left off, even if John could still hear it in his mind. “Damn it all,” he groaned, pushing Elton off of him. “One month, Elton. It’s been one bloody month… And I’m fucking certain he’s fine, as I say every bleeding morning,” he continued as he sat up on the bed. “You have more important things to fret over than that idiot, deadbeat ‘friend’ of yours, like breakfast with your mother and stepfather before we begin the new leg of the tour. Get up and take a shower, _darling_. You fucking stink.”

“Breakfast with my mum? Why didn’t you tell me?,” Elton shrieked, shooting to feet like a rocket. He pulled at his hair. “No, no, no, you know you can’t spring this shit on me, John! Not with my fucking mum!”

John shrugged. “I did tell you, love. It’s not my fault you barely listen to me when I speak anymore,” he said as he walked towards the closet. “And don’t you dare shoot up before we leave. I don’t care how ‘stressed’ this makes you.”

“But what about these, John?,” Elton asked, caressing his bruised eyes and a broken nose. “Isn’t it bad enough I have to go on tour with these marks, but to see my bloody _mother_??”

“Come now… Enough makeup and dark sunglasses you won’t be able to tell. Say you fell whilst drunk or some tosh. Everyone and their mother know you well enough to see a bit of truth in that, I’m certain,” John said, pulling an undershirt over his head. “I told you to stop trying my patience last night, pet. If you had only listened I would have kept to less-visible areas and you wouldn’t have anything to worry about now.”

Elton covered his naked body with his blue dressing gown. “I was coked out of my mind! Of course I wasn’t listening. You are the one who cut the lines, John! Why do you always blame me for your stupidity?”

John pulled Elton’s arm behind his back, and twisted his wrist to the side. Elton whimpered in pain. He put his mouth directly into Elton’s ear. “This conversation is over. Now go and get ready before you really make me angry. You think your face is bad? If you continue you won’t be able to move without pain for days. I won’t say it again, Elton,” he said darkly, and pushed him towards the washroom.

Elton shuddered, walking into the bathroom with his head low. Part of him knew he deserved better than this, but a larger part of him felt this was just the price of being loved.

 _You’ll never be loved properly,_ his mother had said when he came clean about his and John’s relationship. _You’re setting yourself up for a life of being alone forever,_ she had continued.

 _But perhaps being alone would be better than whatever I have here,_ Elton thought, turning the shower knob to just above scalding. He looked down at his pale skin, lined with scars and cuts and dotted with bruises in various stages of healing. He allowed the water to soothe his tight muscles for a moment before scrubbing his skin harshly with the loofa. He laughed quietly at the thought of leaving. _Where the fuck would I go even if I could escape him. He is all I know now. I have no one now that Bernie has disappeared. He broke his promise to me, to us. And it is me that is left half the man I was before._

_Come home soon, Bernie…_

***********************

“I am strong.”

_You are weak._

“I am talented.”

_You are inept._

“I am loved.”

_You are hated._

“I can do anything I put my mind to.”

_You will fail._

Bernie groaned, looking away from the mirror in shame. He barely recognized his reflection any longer, and it terrified him how far he had fallen in such a short time when he allowed himself to think on it. _Some pep talk that was_ , he thought, splashing his face with cool water. He had hoped to feel well enough to leave his flat that day, but it seemed once again his anxiety would win out. 

He made his way across the old wood floors of his dingy flat before collapsing on worn leather loveseat that was one of his only pieces of furniture. It was hard to believe even on his best days that this was his life now. Just two months ago he had it all. He had just married his girlfriend of nearly three years, only to find out the day after their wedding day she had been cheating on him throughout their last year.

 _From John fucking Reid, of course,_ Bernie thought bitterly, cracking open a bottle of lager.

He raced home to ask if it was true. To ask her if she was truly pregnant, or if it was just a ruse to get him out of the hospital room. He knew they had never had sex. She told him time and time again she wanted to wait until after they were married. She had broken into pitiful sobs, recounting her affair in horrid detail that had only just ended a week before their wedding. 

_Fucking fool, Bernie Taupin,_ he groused, taking two long pulls from the bottle, before throwing it against the wall.

He went to John Reid thereafter, and took a buyout for his portion of their business. He needed money to leave Alexandria, and he understood that by doing so, he would discontinue any contact with Reg. As much as he hated that stipend to the contract, his life as he knew it was over. He refused to run home to Lincolnshire and to his family, when it was with his eldest brother Alexandria had been sleeping with all that time.

 _But John promised to be better with Reg. He promised to do better by Reg. I fucking believed him. More the fool, I,_ he thought, staring at the stacks of paparazzi footage he had obtained from old contacts on his coffee table of his mate.

He got to his feet and swept up the pieces of glass into the dustpan. “As wonderful as destruction feels, this will NOT feel good on my bare feet after a few more. I need to go to the market so I can get properly drunk and maybe get some food too. My cupboards are bare and none of my clothes fit anymore,” he said to himself as he walked to the rubbish bin. “And maybe talk to the checkout lad or lass for a mom’ or two as well. It would be nice to talk to someone, I think.

“Afterall, loneliness sucks, and I’ve been lonely for a long, long time.”

****************

“Bernie Taupin?”

Bernie flinched and dropped the tomato he had been holding in his hand back on the produce stand. He knew he shouldn’t have left his flat. He slowly turned around, wishing he had at least put on deodorant, if not showered, before making his way to market. “Mrs. Sewell, always a pleasure,” he replied with a short bow to his head. He ran his fingers through his greasy hair, embarrassed to be found so easily. 

“Oh, lad, no need to be so formal! If I’ve said it once, I’ve said it a thousand times! You know to call me Nan Ivy,” the older woman replied with a chuckle, smacking his chest playfully. She slid her handbag up to her elbow and raised her arms. She looked up at him with concerned blue eyes.  _ Reg’s eyes… _ , came the unbidden thought. “Come here, dear, you look like you could use a hug.” Bernie smiled slightly, allowing the woman to wrap her arms around him. It was easier to play along for now, he knew. “And a good meal… Goodness, you were always thin but this is ridiculous. I can feel all your bones! Come, come, back to my home so I can feed you up,” she said, taking his hand into hers.

“Oh, no… I couldn’t, ma’am… I mean, Nan Ivy. Just here to do some food shopping and back to my flat. Have lots to do, o’ course,” Bernie protested, as she led him like a child back down the aisle to the exit. “Nan, I really can’t come along with you.”

“I’ve heard all about your situation, lad. Your mum and I are quite close, even if she and Sheila are like oil and water. Your own brother, too! Such a disaster... It’s okay to need help every once and awhile, deary. I would feel honoured if you would allow me to help you. I have Tennessee Whisky Reg left behind from his last family dinner as well. A hot meal, some liquor, and a hot bath will do you good, I swear it,” she continued, not allowing Bernie to interject at all.

Bernie groaned quietly, giving up the fight. “For such a small woman your strength still astounds me, Nan Ivy,” Bernie said, sarcasm lacing his every word, as she pushed him into her Ford Escort. He chuckled at her amused grin. “Alright, you win! Onward we go, and all that rot, as they say.”

“Good lad,” she said, shutting the passenger side door. “I’ll bring you back here later to finish your shopping. You must have some empty shelving if you are this thin. Did you walk or do you have a vehicle?”

“Walked. I didn’t see a reason to buy a car when I moved into London. Everything is very close to my flat,” he said, buckling his seatbelt. “What are you doing in London proper, Nan Ivy? Tis a bit far from Pinner, innit?”

“Doctors, lad. The good ones are always far away, it seems.”

“I do hope all is alright?”

“Just getting older, lad. No need to fret. My doctor says I’m still as healthy as a spring chicken. From all my gardening, I swear it.”

Bernie nodded, staring out the window as they left his dodgy part of London behind. “Brilliant,” he said, folding his arms across his chest. “Have you, uh… Have you heard from Reg lately, then?”

“Had breakfast with him, John, Sheila, and Fred a few weeks ago, just before he started his Euro tour. Idiot boy was hungover and quite bruised from a fall the eve’ before. John promised he’d watch over his partying this go around. I don’t want to lose my grandson to the booze and drugs.”

“A fall, eh?,” Bernie repeated darkly, folding his arms across his black t-shirt. “Let me guess, he fell down the stairs and hit his head on the balustrade?”

“Well, yes, as a matter of fact, that’s what he said happened.”

Bernie nodded. “They were staying in a hotel. They haven’t been back to any of their houses in a year. Unless he meant he tripped on his way onto the balcony, there is no way he could hit his head on the balustrade.”

“You think he got into a fight with someone?”

“Not someone. Him…,” Bernie muttered. “Thank you for the information, Nan. I might need a ride to the airport later, if it would be no trouble? I will call a cab if needed.”  
“You are going to help him?,” she asked, a hopeful look in her eye.

“I’m going to try.”


	7. Anchor to this World

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real people and situations that may or may not have happened. I hope you enjoy the ride as I delve into this plot that just will not leave my mind. Comments and kudos appreciated.

Elton sat at his dressing table, his head in his hands. He was tired. Performance after performance, after-party after after-party, interviews, launch parties, costume fittings, recording in ten different studios for the same crappy album. Smile after fake smile… John grinding against his body every night, too high on riding the curtails of Elton’s success to sleep without it, and Elton having to at least pretend to enjoy it if he wished none of his bones to be broken. Elton just wanted a day of rest... Hell even an hour would do! But John continued to set up appearance after appearance, and continued to make money on his name and talent and it was fucking exhausting.

He swore John was trying to kill him.

“Poor little rock star. Just so ungrateful for all that you have been given,” came the sneering voice Elton had learned to loathe before stepping on stage from the doorway.

“What do you want, John?,” Elton asked tiredly, rubbing his temples.

“Just to check to see if you are ready. You’re on in five minutes,” John continued, closing the door to the dressing room behind him. “Stand up so I can see you.”

Elton got to his feet with a groan. The red sequined jumpsuit sparkled in the dim room. It completely washed out his ashen complexion, but at least the large red tinted glasses covered the bags that surrounded his eyes on a daily basis now. He lifted his arms from his sides, and spun in a silly circle, before sitting back on his stool. “There. You saw me. I’d like to continue wallowing in self-pity for my remaining five minutes, thanks, so shoo,” Elton said, waving his hand at the door.

John didn’t move, but a smile spread across his face. “My, aren’t you feeling rather rebellious this evening, pet. I haven’t seen this side of you in ages. It is always refreshing when I am able to crack it.” He took a step forward. “You know I can crush you where you stand, or sit as the case may be.”

“So do it then!,” Elton exclaimed, jumping to his feet. John stopped his advance. “I am so sick and tired of your bloody threats. You want to hurt me? You want to make me bleed? You want to ‘ruin’ me? So do it! Just fucking do it and stop with the bleeding threats! No wants me to hurt, or even die, more than I want myself to be.” John tilted his head to the side, considering the man before him. “Oh what? Now because I am telling you to do it, you fall short, then? Now you have no plan? Bloody typical,” Elton continued, sitting back down. He placed his head on the table, the cool wood soothing his flushed forehead. “Cancel this damn show. Cancel this damn tour. I am finished. I’m not going out.”

“Yes you are, Elton.”

“No I’m not, John. Even if you push me on to the fucking stage and stick me in front of the piano, I will not play. I will ensure you look the fool, not me. I am taking some time off, and you will allow it, or you’re fired.”

John scoffed, folding his arms across his chest. “Where do you expect to go away from me, Elton? I control your every move. Without me you’ll be dead by the end of the week.”

Elton shrugged, turning his head so his cheek was on the table. He sighed in pleasure. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so feverish. “Anything to get me away from you right is fine, John. Dead or alive, I can’t say I truly care.”

“You’ll regret this, Elton John,” John said, slamming the door behind him.

“I already do,” Elton whispered, burying his face in his hands once again. “I already do…”

***************

Bernie had planned to hop on the next flight out of Heathrow to Scotland after dealing with Nan Ivy’s ministrations. After a hot shower, some clean clothes, and a delicious roast for dinner, he was back in the room he and Reg spent the early years of their friendship, curled up on the bottom bunk alone. He had taken the time the following morning to find out just where in the continent the tour was at the moment, and had booked his ticket out. He had planned to find the hotel in which John and Reg were staying, and drag Reg home if need be. 

Nan Ivy had planned to drop him off in time to make his flight. She had wrote Reg a letter just in case he had refused Bernie’s pleading. She woke up earlier than she had in years, and loaded Bernie and a small suitcase full of clothes he had left behind when they fled the house three years prior. 

Only, he never made his flight. He ended up back on his sofa in his dingy flat with the empty cupboards and definitely not enough alcohol to win the war on his anxiety.

 _Bloody useless am I,_ he groused, popping open yet another bottle of lager. 

Ivy understood, of course, as she made an illegal u-turn in the intersection and drove him back to the seedy side of London. She dropped him off out front of his housing complex and promised to return with groceries for him. He made his way up the stairs in a haze of both confusion and self-hatred.

He used to be strong. He used to be able to follow through on whatever he set his mind to. Now he was nothing more than a failure. He still couldn’t believe how much that stupid affair and John Reid had fucked with his psyche.

He took a long pull of his lager. He hoped Nan Ivy would bring him some whisky with the groceries she was so pleased to buy for him.

 _Who would have thought of all the people I could have run into, Ivy Sewell would be the one who would be trying to help me, when all I wanted a flipping tomato in the produce section…,_ he thought.

He looked towards the door when the knock sounded. He pulled himself to his feet with a groan. He pasted a fake smile on his face since no matter how thankful he was for her help, he still hated being a bother, and made his way to the door.

“Thanks again for doing… this… Reg?,” Bernie asked in disbelief.

Elton smiled slightly at catching Bernie so off guard. “Aye, mate, it’s me. You alright there mate? You look like shite.”

“As do you, Reg, like always. How… uhh, how did you find me?,” Bernie asked, leaning against the door before he lost his balance. “I thought I hid well enough… I don’t even have a telephone!”

“If you throw enough money around you end up getting what you want in the end. That’s my philosophy at least,” Elton replied with a one shoulder shrug. His smile widened when Bernie shuffled his feet, embarrassed. “Are you going to let me in, you great duffer, or have me stand out here for the rest of my life. It’s rather chilly out here, mate.”

Bernie shrugged. “Not much warmer inside the flat, but come on in then,” he said, stepping back. “I don't run the heat if I can help it... It stinks... It’s not much, but it’s home for now.”

“It’s... quaint,” Reg agreed, looking around the almost empty living area. “You have a sofa and a table… No tele? No phone? Does this even have a bedroom or do you sleep on that thing there? And bloody hell, are those pictures of me on the fucking table?”

Bernie flushed. He had forgotten about those. He grabbed his lager and finished the remaining liquid in one long gulp. “Yes, some paparazzi shots I was given by a contact,” he said unnecessarily. “Been trying to keep up on you without you knowing, is all.”

“You could have... I mean, oh I don’t know, _rang_ me and told me you were fucking _alive_ and THEN asked how I was, rather than getting these ridiculous photos,” Elton replied, picking up one of the photographs with his thumb and forefinger. He groaned. “Gods, I look just horrid in this snap right here. I’m glad it was never published or it would have been a pr nightmare.”

Bernie nodded to the rest of the photographs. “Most of them are. Horrible, that is... I paid good money to ensure they weren’t published and sent to me instead. No matter how shitty you looked, at least I knew you were alive.”

Elton collapsed on the sofa and threw his head back on the cushion. “It’s been a tough year. I spent an incredible amount of money to keep the darkness out of the presses. No need for the world to know I’m not as golden as I seem,” he said, pulling a flask and his cigarette case out of his jacket pocket. He took a long pull of his liquor before lighting a cigarette. “I left you behind when I should have ensured you were by my side. God knows you are my only sense of reason…” He took a long drag from his smoke. “I fired John the other day. I told him to stay out of my fucking life, too. I’m manager-less and boyfriend-less for the time being. It’s somewhat freeing.”

“I thought you were happy with Reid,” Bernie ground out, sitting beside Elton on the sofa. Elton handed him one of his cigarettes, which Bernie took with a quiet thanks. “I thought your life was ‘wondrous’ and you had met the bloody ‘man of your dreams’ and all that other rot.”

Elton chuckled darkly, nodding to the pictures on the table. “You see those pictures and think I was actually happy? Come now, even you are more intelligent than that, Bernie. No offense intended, of course.”

“Of course not, Reg. Never any offense taken with what comes out your stupid mouth. Your Nan will be stopping by soon. I’m certain she’ll be delighted to see you whole.”

Elton tilted his head in confusion. “Why will my Nan be coming here? This area isn’t safe for her, is it?”

Bernie shrugged. “Not really, no, but she wouldn’t take no for an answer. She found me at the market a few days ago after a doctor appointment. Decided I needed help, I suppose. You know how she is.”

“That I do. She’s a great woman, Nan.”

Bernie merely grunted. 

“Do you need money, Bernie? I can write you a check right now if you need it... Is that why you are living like this?,” Elton asked after a long silence.

“No, I have plenty in my account after being bought out. Just haven’t gotten around to doing much with it.”

“What do you mean, ‘bought out’?”

“After I found out the truth about my ‘relationship’, I went to John. I had to get away, start over again, and to do so I needed money that was purely mine. Alex was on all my accounts, of course… He offered me a contract. The deal was I sign over the rights to my part of our music and I stay clear of you, for a good amount. I wasn’t thinking clearly, I was only thinking of starting over again, so I signed it. I’ve regretted it every day since.”

Elton jumped to his feet and began to pace. “John _knew_? I’ve asked him every day since I woke up at the hospital if he had heard from you. I’ve asked him every fucking day if you were alright…”

“Reg?”

“I’ve asked him time and time again why you would just fucking disappear when I was hurting so much… Why you would leave me when you promised you would never…”

“Reggie?”

“And he fucking _knew_ … He fucking arranged it! What a fucking arsehole! I can’t _believe_ I didn’t see it before...”

“Reggie, sit the fuck down before you…” Elton punched the wall. “Hurt yourself. For Christ’s sake,” Bernie muttered, getting to his feet. He gathered the man in his arms as they both fell to their knees. Bernie rubbed circles on Elton’s back as he sobbed into his shoulder. 

“You promised you’d never leave me,” Elton whispered.

“I know, Reg. I know,” Bernie said, squeezing him tight. “I shouldn’t have left. There was so much happening in my mind. So much that was just _wrong_ in my life that happened so quickly, I ran.”

“You are the only thing that anchors me to this world, Bernie. Without you, I have nothing.”

“We are still young, Reg. We are going to make mistakes.”

“Let’s make those mistakes together, then? I love you and need you in my life, Bern.”

Bernie only nodded. He knew if he spoke it would be a promise he would find difficult to keep.


	8. Second Time Lucky?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real people and situations that may or may not have happened. I hope you enjoy the ride as I delve into this plot that just will not leave my mind. Comments and kudos appreciated.

And difficult it was. Bernie had grown used to his empty flat. He had grown used to sitting on the sofa and staring blankly at the wall in silence. He had grown used to a diet of beer and whisky and cigarettes and just enough food to ensure he survived. 

Within days of Reg’s unexpected arrival back into his life, it had changed drastically, and he still wasn’t sure why he allowed it.

He was sat on the new microfiber sectional Reg decided the flat just _needed_ to have to replace his second-hand loveseat, that just barely fit in the small space, his bare feet resting on the convertible coffee table in front of him. He stared blankly at the new television that was brought in the previous day, while Elton fiddled with the antenna to try to get some broadcast news at least to play.

He took a long pull of whisky straight from the bottle. “This has to stop, Reg,” he said, putting the bottle on the new side table Reg had brought home just that morning.

“What are you on about now, Bernie?,” Elton asked, backing away from the television, hands up and ready to move the antenna again if need be.

“All these… things… You keep bringing here. I will admit the sectional is much more comfortable to sleep on than my old loveseat, and it is nice to not eat with the plate on my lap if I choose to eat something, but I liked what I had before.”

Elton looked at him with confusion. “But Bernie, you had barely anything before…”

Bernie nodded. “And I liked it, Reg. I liked my simple things. I liked my simple life. I mean, take that hideous umbrella stand by the front door for example? Why do I need that bloody thing when I don’t even own an umbrella? And no, that is not an invitation to buy me a bloody umbrella…,” Bernie said quickly.

“You do live in London, though, Bernie. An umbrella is not the worst thing to have,” Elton reasoned.

“I swear if the next time you stop by you have an umbrella in your hand I am going to whack you over the head with it, mate,” Bernie grumbled, folding his arms across his bare chest. “I am thankful you decided to try to make my flat a bit more habitable. All I am saying is I don’t need all this to be happy, Reg. I am a twenty year old bachelor. I think I did well even having a sofa and not just a camp chair.”

“I just wanted to help,” Elton pouted as he sat down. “And I’m bored. How the hell are you not bored?”

Bernie shrugged. “The beauty of depression, I suppose. I have also enjoyed silence much more than you ever will. Not to be a twat but where exactly are you even staying? I know you don’t have a house nearby.” _And maybe you can stay there for a bit and leave me alone to die,_ Bernie thought, taking the bottle back in his hand.

“My mum’s,” Elton replied, with a theatrical shudder. “That’s why I spend so much time here.”

Bernie snorted, and began to chuckle softly when Elton laughed. “Can’t blame you there, mate.” He looked towards the door as a loud knock sounded. “I swear if that’s something else you have had delivered I’m throwing it, and you, out the bloody window, Reggie.”

Elton shook his head. “I haven’t bought anything else, I promise.”

Bernie bit his lower lip as he threw his flannel dressing gown over his shoulders. He couldn’t think of anyone who would be stopping by on the weekend, and thought perhaps answering in just his mesh shorts would be rather awkward. He opened the door and let out a long groan.

“What the fuck are you doing here, Reid?”

“A little birdie told me I’d find Elton here. I’d like to speak to him, little Taupin,” John said, shouldering his way passed Bernie into the flat.

“I’m pretty certain he doesn’t wish to speak with you, Reid. I certainly don’t. Get the fuck out of my flat, arsehole,” Bernie said, glaring at the man’s back. He looked towards Elton, who sat rigid on the couch, his eyes wide with fear at John’s unexpected arrival. “Reg, you don’t need to talk to him. You don’t need to listen to whatever lies he sprouts to make himself the victim! You can send him out, right now! You fired him, remember that. He has no power over you now.” 

“Right, this will be easier if you aren’t here, little Taupin. Truly sorry for this tiny inconvenience,” John said, pushing Bernie out the door and slammed it shut behind him.

“What the fuck, Reid! Let me back in!,” Bernie shouted, banging on the door.

“Keep it down out there!” 

“My kids are napping, you idiot!” 

“What’s with all the commotion!” 

“Kids these days…”

Came from behind various doors on Bernie’s floor.

Bernie slid down the wall, pulling at his hair, feeling powerless once again. “I hope this is enough excitement for you, Reg,” he whispered, burying his face in his hands.

*******************

Elton sat rigid, his eyes wide, as John looked around the flat. “I should have known you’d find him,” John said, unbuttoning his suit jacket before removing it completely. He sat beside Elton as he unbuttoned the cuffs of his white dress shirt. “I believe it is time to have a chat now that you have had a few days to cool down, Elton. What say you?”

“I have nothing more to say to you, John,” Elton whispered, flinching when John took his hand softly into his own, but unable to bring himself to pull away from the tender touch.

“Well, then allow me to speak, then?” Elton nodded once, his brow furrowed with uncertainty. John ran his thumb across Elton’s brow, his cheeks, his throat, until he felt himself leaning into the relaxing touch. “There, that’s better. No need to be so tense around me, love. I have your best interests at heart, as you well know.” Elton smiled slightly, resting his head on John’s shoulder. He sighed with relief when rather than push him aside as he did so often, John wrapped a strong arm around his shoulders insead. “I have spent the last few days thinking about how we parted, and I feel that now that we have spent some time apart, we can speak like the reasonable men I know we are. What do you think pet?” 

“Sure?,” Elton whispered with a slight shrug.

He smiled slightly when John kissed the top of his head. “Good, love. I will admit I have been working you a bit too much lately. The public adore you, Elton. You are in high demand in every continent now, love. In pleasing the masses, I have neglected you and your health, and for that I apologize. I will do better by you, pet, I swear it, if you will allow me the chance to prove it.”

“You lied to me,” Elton murmured. “You said you didn’t know what happened to Bernie, but you did.”

“Tell me, pet, would you rather have found out there was a monetary value on what was, to you, a great friendship and partnership? A lump sum given to leave you behind? I did it for your mental health, love,” John said softly, rubbing soothing circles on Elton back. “He said he was not made for the life we live. He was a simple man, with simple tastes, and just wanted out. I did as he asked to protect you… Us.”

Elton recalled their earlier conversation. _“But Bernie, you had barely anything before…” “And I liked it, Reg. I liked my simple things. My simple life.”_ “He doesn’t want me around anymore, does he, John?,” Elton asked miserably, burying his face in the crook of John’s neck.

“I’m afraid not pet, but I do, if you’ll have me?”

Elton looked up into John’s face, for once so honest and open, like it had been in the very beginning of their relationship. He bit his lip, knowing he was falling into dangerous territory for even thinking about accepting any of this as truth.

But he was lonely, and confused, and so hurt by all the discoveries that continued to smack him in the face... and things were so much simpler when John made the decisions for him.

He leaned in close, capturing John’s lips with his own. _It will be different this time,_ Elton reasoned, opening his mouth at John’s silent command to accept the deepening kiss. _He just promised it will be different. I have to believe him, because really? What else do I have?_

_******************_

Bernie jumped to his feet when the door opened just beside him. He shook his head quickly, doing his best to vanish any vestige of exhaustion. He felt his mouth drop open in shock when he saw Reg and John’s hands laced together. He looked at Elton and his eyes widened in confusion when he saw the bright smile on Elton’s face. “What’s all this then?,” Bernie asked, nodding at them both and the close proximity they shared. “Reg, I thought you broke it off with him.”

“I did, Bernie… But even I knew it wouldn’t last.”

“But now… He just waltzes into my flat and you take him back like he did nothing to hurt you? What did he say to make you believe this is a good idea, Reg?,” Bernie pleaded, waving his hands in the air. “You were  _ just _ saying how much better off you were. How free you were, Reg, without a boyfriend and manager, remember?”

Elton only shrugged, looking down at the floor. “Don’t pretend you care about me, Bernie… I know the truth now. This is going to have to be goodbye,” he whispered, looking up at the ceiling. Looking anywhere but at Bernie’s face. He allowed John to wrap his arms around him from behind. Bernie looked away quickly, the seemingly loving touch making his stomach turn. “You can keep the furniture if you like, Bernie, or get rid of it. I don’t really care… Call it my last gift to you and the final chapter of our friendship.” He cleared his throat, and Bernie just knew he also was fighting back tears. “Let’s go home, please, John? I am suddenly quite knackered. We can pick up my belongings from Mum’s another day.”

“Of course, pet. You’ve had a rough few days, haven’t you? Let’s go home,” John replied, smirking at Bernie over Elton’s head.  _ I win, _ he mouthed triumphantly, when Bernie made the mistake of looking at him.

Bernie watched them walk towards the stairwell, John’s arms still around Elton, and pulled his dressing gown tighter around his body. He felt more anger than he had felt in years. He walked into his flat and slammed his door shut.  _ He won, eh? Well, I’ll just need to even out the playing field, won’t I, then?, _ Bernie thought, turning on the shower for the first time in a week.  _ I have made mistakes. I have hurt Reg numerous times. But I am so much better for him than that arsehole could ever be. _

For the first time in months, Bernie felt a sliver of hope.


	9. Still the same, with or without you.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real people and situations that may or may not have happened. I hope you enjoy the ride as I delve into this plot that just will not leave my mind. Comments and kudos appreciated.

“And then he just… went off with him!,” Bernie exclaimed, pacing the length of the dining room. “Like he didn’t just push me out of  _ my  _ bloody flat to ensure he could not be argued with. Like he didn’t just waltz back into Reg’s life unannounced, and certainly unwanted, after causing such pain and heartache… Like Reg hadn’t  _ just _ been clinging to life because of his manipulations... Like the past few months didn’t even happen! I just don’t understand him...,” Bernie finished softly, collapsing on the seat in front of Nan Ivy’s dining table, running both hands through his hair harshly.

“I think you do, lad, you are just doing your best not to at this time,” Ivy said, stirring a cube of sugar into her cup of tea. She nodded to the tea tray. “Pour yourself a cuppa there, lad. It’s chamomile. You look like you could use a calming presence while we plan what to do about this mess you boys find yourselves in.”

Bernie reached for the teapot with shaky hands. “You’ll help me then?”

Ivy nodded. “Yes, though I wish you had come to be right away. It’s been three months since now, hasn’t it?” Bernie nodded, ashamed. “It’s alright, lad. You have had more on your plate than most your age. It’s okay that you took some time for yourself, Bernie, remember that, alright?,” she said softly. Bernie nodded again, wiping his eyes with his sleeve. “From what you’ve told me, lad, that Reid fellow is bad news. I want what’s best for our Reg, of course. He is much too skinny now. I did my best to feed him up while he crashed here, but his mum, bless her, is a hindrance to him and his health. Has been since he was small.”

Bernie nodded, many memories of holding Reg close on the bottom bunk while he sobbed against his shoulder after nights spent only with gushing fury and vitriol at Reg’s life choices. There was never enough alcohol in the room to soothe either him or Bernie after Sheila’s ‘loving’ ministrations. “I think that’s why he so readily goes back to John, no matter what he does to him, if we are honest with ourselves, Nan,” Bernie said, pouring a shot of whisky in his tea cup.

Ivy snorted as she watched Bernie stir the tea. “Whisky does not go in good tea, my lad.”

“On the contrary, whisky goes with everything, dear lady,” Bernie said, raising his cup in the air with a wide smile. Ivy chuckled. “So, what are we going to do, Nan?,” Bernie asked.

Ivy reached across the table and took Bernie’s hand in her own. He looked so small, so lost, so childlike, it brought out her maternal side in an instant. “First, we ring your friends. The ones who truly care about Reggie, not those who care only for ‘Elton’. Then we will all figure it out together. Can you do that for me, lad?”

Bernie nodded. “Yes, I can do that. I think our directory is still in our old room.”

Ivy smiled. “Good. You do that, and I will go find Fred. He loves Reggie more than anything.”

Bernie smiled, that sliver of hope becoming something more. He ran up the stairs with the hop in his step that had been missing for years.  _ Yes, we will save him from himself. We will save him from a life of heartbreak and pain. I can do this _ , Bernie thought. He sat on the bottom bunk, opening the directory with trembling hands. He shook his hair out of his face.  _ I have to do this. It isn’t a matter of can or cannot.  _

“Depression sucks,” he murmured into the empty room.

******************

  
  


“Why aren’t you even close to ready yet, pet? The car is already out front,” John asked. Elton cringed at the disgust evident in John’s voice. John took in both Elton’s naked form sat on the king size bed, holding his knees against his chest, pouting, and the different garments that were thrown haphazardly both on the floor and the furniture, evidence of Elton’s attempt and failure of actually being ready on time for once.

Elton groaned, lifting his head from where he had it hidden atop his knees. “None of my clothes fit right anymore, John,” Elton moaned, banging his head back down on his knees. “I’m never leaving this house again. I look ridiculous.” 

John scoffed, entering Elton’s walk-in closet. “Out of  _ all _ of these absurd outfits you feel the need to buy, ‘nothing’ fits you right, Elton? You’ve got to be bloody kidding me,” John replied, his voice echoing back to him from the closet. He threw a random suit bag over his arm and exited the closet. “Put this on and let’s go, Elton. You know how I hate being late.”

“No, I look horrible. I’ve lost too much bloody weight for my clothes. They hang on me and I look godawful. Like a bloody skeleton. I refuse to leave the house ever again,” Elton said dramatically, falling back onto the bed, his arms and legs spread.

“It’s funny how you think you have a choice, Elton,” John said, pulling him to his feet by his hair, ignoring Elton’s shriek of pain. He shoved the suit bag into Elton’s stomach, smirking at Elton’s grunt of surprise. “You have ten minutes to get ready or you’ll make me very angry, pet. You don’t want me to be very angry, do you, Elton?,” John asked, his hand cupping Elton’s cheek harshly. Elton flinched. “You know what happens when you make me very angry. I’m certain you’d rather be whole for the launch party, and not have any more punishments to hide from the world, won’t you, Elton?”

Elton nodded quickly. “I’m sorry,” he whispered.

John caressed his cheek softly. “You’re always ‘sorry’, pet. I find it hard to believe anymore. But don’t worry, when we get home I’ll ensure you truly are this time. Now get dressed. Ten minutes or you’ll be nursing yourself through a lot of pain throughout  _ your _ fucking night, Elton.”

John pushed him to the floor harshly.

_ It will be different this time, John had promised, _ Elton thought, pulling himself back to his feet by the bed.  _ I don’t see any difference at all. I’m a fucking a fool _ .

Elton wiped his eyes with his hand.  _ How many fucking tears will I shed because of his madness? How many times will I allow him to hurt me before I see sense? _ , he asked himself as he gulped down the remainder of his tumbler of straight vodka. 

He looked at the picture frame that stood proudly beside his bed, taken the day after his first album was released in the United Kingdom. Bernie had his arm thrown around Elton’s shoulders, a beaming smile on his face.  _ We were so proud that day. Dick and Ray had been so proud of us. Even when it flopped in the United Kingdom, we knew one day it would be a hit. And it was, is… All over the world. _

Elton unzipped the suit bag with a sigh. He pulled out the plain black suit with a lavender shirt and black tie that was inside it.  _ Now ‘Elton John’ is being released, with my co-songwriter off the credits, and I have to trudge this road alone. I was never supposed to  _ be _ alone… _

He sat on his bed and buried his face in his hands.  _ Let John hurt me. Let John kill me. I refuse to go on without Bernie, _ he thought, pulling the duvet over his body. He curled into the fetal position.  _ I refuse to go on without my 'one'. _


	10. Love is a strange and terrible thing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real people and situations that may or may not have happened. I hope you enjoy the ride as I delve into this plot that just will not leave my mind. Comments and kudos appreciated.

_ Three years later: _

It didn’t make sense, the life he led, Elton remembered thinking as he leaned against the wall of some unnamed studio executive, an untouched flute of champagne in his hand. This night of celebration, this night of revelry, so much like all the others, but oh so different as well. The smile plastered on his face was so fake that many stayed clear of him, being well known for his dramatic fits by this time in his career.

In the pain filled and drug induced haze he was in, Elton could hardly blame them.

He downed his champagne, and took two more flutes upon putting his empty glass on the waitstaff’s tray, earning a surprised look on the face of the man before he passed him by. Elton didn’t understand why he seemed so shocked. This behavior was not new. It was a well known fact that Elton was no stranger to excessive boozing by now. 

_ Must be new to this, _ Elton thought, returning to his place against the wall.

He surveyed the room with narrowed eyes. Dick was there, which surprised him, along with his son Stephen and assistant Raymond from DJM records. When John removed himself from DJM, and in turn Elton, when together they created ‘Rocket’, he lost contact with the three men who helped make him a star. It was easier, John had said, to cut all ties with DJM and start anew, no matter how close of a friendship he had shared with them.

_ It was easier, really, just to listen to John, _ Elton thought, pressing his hand to his side with a wince. He beckoned another member of the waitstaff with his empty flutes.

“Everything alright, sir?,” the boy asked, looking at him with concern Elton felt he really did not deserve. Many people looked at him with concern now.

“Just a bit of knife-play gone wrong. No issue, I assure you, lad,” Elton assured him, his voice more slurred than he expected from the champagne alone, whilst taking two more flutes in his hands. He looked up at the terrified face of the young man. “There’s nothing stronger to be had around here, is there?”

The boy shook his head quickly, shoving the whole tray in Elton’s free hand, before scurrying away.  _ Odd, _ Elton thought, downing one of the glasses with one gulp as he made his way to one of the chairs in the corner. Setting the tray upon the side table that seemed just  _ made _ for serious alcoholics, he closed his eyes.  _ John will wake me if something important happens, _ Elton reasoned.  _ I only promised to attend. I didn’t promise to mingle. _ _ And he seems quite occupied with that little lad right now, I don’t expect to be bothered for quite some time. _

Elton told himself he was thankful John had found someone to occupy his time. Elton told himself the same each time John strayed from him, like tonight, or brought another man to bed with them: that he was thankful. It meant less physical pain. It meant less cruel and bitter criticism. 

It meant less attention on just how much Elton was  _ wanting, _ and how grateful he must be to have a man like John whom looked  _ passed _ all that was wrong with him and loved him anyway.

Elton snorted.  _ Love is a strange and terrible thing... _

“Hey, you miserable bastard. You’re missing a good party out there,” came a voice Elton had never expected to hear again. He sat up quickly, groaning when the half healed cuts on his abdomen contracted made him slow his movements. Bernie took one of the flutes for himself. “I’ll take one of those, I think. No matter how much alcohol you can pack away yourself, no one needs 10 flutes sitting beside them.”

“i must beg to differ... Bernie,” Elton whispered, tilting his head to the side. His hand lifted, as though it had a mind of it’s own, and grasped Bernie’s hand firmly. “Is this really you, or is the mixture of coke and alcohol making me more delusional than usual?”

“Well, I’m not saying you aren’t delusional, mate, but yes, it’s me, this time,” Bernie said, a grin on his face and a soft squeeze to Elton’s hand. “It’s uh- It’s been a long time, hassnit?”

“Yes, it has,” Elton agreed softly, for the want of anything better to say.

“I don’t have much time before I’m spotted, I’m sure, but I wanted… no… needed to see you. I’ve been trying to get you alone for years now. Reid has his guard dogs surrounding you all the time. It's rather unsettling.”

“Body guards, Bernie, not guard dogs,” Elton corrected without thinking. “What do you mean you’ve been trying to get in contact with me? John said you’ve moved on and are doing quite well for yourself… Married a good woman, manager at that factory you work at, and even have two adorable and young children. I sent cards and letters to you for every milestone you’ve reached, every birthday and Christmas, and just because, that were returned unopened, mind? Why would you be fighting to contact me if I have given you every opportunity to do so?”

“I never received any cards or letters, mate,” Bernie said, looking at him strangely.

“I have a stack sitting on the desk in my office that says differently, mate,” Elton said, folding his arms carefully across his chest. “All marked ‘return to sender’ quite clearly. I got the picture, even if it took several returned posts to see it.”

“I swear to you, Reg, I have not received any post from you. I would have replied with at least a thank you, you must know that of me by now?”

“Do I? Do I really know you, Bernie? Because honestly, I can’t be so sure anymore, and I’m pretty certain I don’t want to.”

“You don’t mean that, Reg,” Bernie pleaded.

“You left when it suited you, Bernie. You took a lump sum and ran away from me, us. You hated that I found you. You hated when I tried to help you. Now you hate that I have left you behind?" Elton shook his head quickly. "It doesn’t work that way, Bernie,” Elton said, getting to his feet unsteadily. He raised a hand to his forehead, doing his best to push away the wave of dizziness that threatened to overtake him. “I’ve said goodbye once before, Bernie, and I am more than alright with doing it again.”

Bernie jumped to his feet. “Reg, you don’t understand the whole situation. You only know what John has fed you, little by little, destroying any chance of my redemption... Any chance of making light come instead of this shadow that's between us... I just want 10 minutes of your time, mate, to explain. I...”

Elton shrugged. “Whatever makes you sleep better, Bernie. I’m finished with our toxic dance…”

Elton crossed his arms over his stomach, leaning forward and groaning in pain. He pushed Bernie away with one hand when he tried to keep him on his feet. “Get... John,” Elton managed, just before his world went black.


	11. When things begin to crumble, there is always hope

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is a work of fiction, loosely based on real people and situations that may or may not have happened. I hope you enjoy the ride as I delve into this plot that just will not leave my mind. Comments and kudos appreciated.

Elton groaned as he came awake all at once. He blinked his eyes slowly as he took in his strange, yet familiar surroundings. “Where the fuck am I, then?,” he muttered, looking at the strange machines that surrounded the small cot he was currently laying on. “And what the fuck happened?”

“The hospital,” a voice that Elton could almost recognize chirped in from beside him. Elton turned his gaze at Bernie, blinking stupidly as he tried to process his situation. “Before you ask what I’m doing here now that you are awake, yet again, for the third time, I will just answer it. I figured I would wait for you wake up this time since I wasn’t here for you the last time,” Bernie motioned to Elton’s prone form, “this happened.”

“Why are my arms tied down?,” Elton asked, looking down at the restraints that kept his arms tied to the side of the cot. He could only lift each arm a few inches before they were forced to stop.

“First, you have numerous open cuts all over your body, Reg, one of which was so deep you should have had stitches. Two: you are also littered with bruises along your upper body, and you have a fractured rib to boot. Three: you lost quite a bit of blood, and that, along with coming down from your week long bender of only drugs and alcohol, is why you fainted at your launch party, and ended up here in the first place.” Bernie smiled grimly. “Too many witnesses for Reid to push it under the rug, you see. You are dangerously underweight as it is Reg, and to go a week without eating? Really?” Elton didn’t respond. Bernie sighed. “Your doctor ordered restraints until you have had a psych consult,” Bernie said quietly, folding his arms across his chest. “It was really bad, Reggie. I thought I lost you for certain this time.” Bernie cleared his throat, refusing to give in to his emotions. “Did you hurt yourself, Reg, or did Reid do that to you?”

“A bit of both,” Elton admitted, looking up at the ceiling. “It isn’t that big of a deal. It’s happened numerous times, as I’m sure you know. Where is John anyways?”

“If I know him, no doubt spending an absurd amount of money to keep your admittance from the presses,” Bernie said with a one armed shrug. “And until you speak to the doctors, I can’t imagine them allowing him to visit you, with all your injuries and him being your partner and all.”

“That’s going to go over like a lead balloon,” Elton muttered, shutting his eyes.

“You were wrong, you know.”

Elton snorted. “I’m wrong often, Bernie, or so I’m told. Why this time then?”

“I did marry a woman who gave birth to my twins 3 months after our rushed wedding at the justice of the peace. We had sex on our first date, stupidly unprotected because I was just so goddamn _lonely_ and just needed to feel _something_ other than self-hatred for even a moment… We went on two more after that, before we decided it wasn’t going to work out. Then I received a phone call telling me her parents were throwing her out of their house because she was pregnant and unmarried. Stout Catholics, apparently. My mum pushed me to marry her, so I did.” Bernie took a deep breath. “We have separate bedrooms. Have had them since we moved into our flat. She has boyfriends. I have lovers. We do live comfortably enough, I suppose, especially since my promotion,” he said with a shrug. “I hate my job, but do well enough with it to ensure the family is taken care of. I still do some writing on the side, but Reid ensured no one in the industry will look twice at my material. If it wasn’t for my son and daughter I would have ended my life years ago. I keep going, for them. But I’m not doing well, Reg, and neither are you.”

“I’m fine, Bernie,” Elton replied exasperatedly.

“Says the man restrained to a hospital gurney,” Bernie replied with a snort. He got to his feet. “All I am saying is listen to the damn doctors this time, Reg, and get some help. You’re 26 years old and diving face first into the grave. You are worth more to everyone than you must believe. I have to get home to the kids so my wife can go on her date with a new Mr. Wonderful, so obviously you aren’t the only one in a fucked-up relationship. Pretty soon she'll ask for a divorce, as she always does when things begin to get serious, and you know what? This time I just might grant it... You know where to find me if you want to talk. Ring me, stop over, whatever you need.” Bernie paused, his hand on the doorknob, thinking over his last words. “I’m always around for you, Reggie, no matter what Reid has led you to believe. I love you with all my heart.”

Elton found himself staring at the door long after it shut.

********************

“I want a divorce.”

Bernie sighed, closing the newspaper he was so close to finishing and setting it on the coffee table. He folded his hands on his lap politely and stared at his wife with a raised eyebrow. “Why this time?,” he asked, unable to keep the snark out of his voice no matter how much he willed it away.

But _God,_ he was so tired of this conversation...

Mary sighed, folding her arms across her chest. She looked at him contemplatively. “Are we even really married, Bernie?”

“Legally, yes,” he said slowly, as though talking to his children.

Mary groaned. “That’s not what I meant and you know it!” Bernie merely motioned for her to continue. “I can’t live like this anymore, Bernie. You with your lovers, me with mine, crossing paths like we are nothing more than co-ed housemates. I want something more. Something meaningful. Someone who actually loves me.”

 _Someone straight_ , was left out this time, and for that Bernie was thankful.

“And where will you go if we divorce, Mary? You have no job. You have no degree. Your family wrote you off ages ago.” Bernie paused, watching her face as it reddened with each fact. “Oh, I know! Brilliant idea, this. Will you go stay with Mr. Wonderful 1 or 2 or 3? I lose track of their names so easily, you see.” Mary threw her hands in the air and screeched. “Hey! Just trying to help here, Mary, no need to throw a fit.”

“You insufferable idiot...”

Bernie grinned. “I’m not being the idiot here… I have a flat in my name. I have a good job. I have a car. I am perfectly fine with however this ends up, Mary. But one thing is for certain: you won’t be taking the kids to wherever it is you end up, I don’t care how hard I have to fight for custody.”

Mary only shrugged. “I don’t want them. They caused this. They ruined everything.”

Bernie nodded, unfolding the newspaper once again. “I’ll expect you out by morning then, shall I?”

“But I have nowhere to go yet!,” she said, her eyes wide in disbelief.

Bernie nodded to the kitchen, where the only telephone in the house hung against the wall. “Well, if I were you, I’d start making some phone calls, then. You asked for a divorce. I am granted your request. Goodbye, Mary.”


	12. Alone

Elton stood by the window of his room, gazing down at a few of his fellow patients walking amongst the gardens. They were smiling and chatting with each other, taking full advantage of the unseasonably warm winter day. He looked on with a bit of jealousy, not quite having made it to that stage of his recovery just yet. He was hopeful that it wouldn’t be much longer before he was able to go about without a ‘minder’ during the course of his days within the rehabilitation institute.

It _really_ was growing more tiresome each day...

He felt the aid’s eyes watching him closely from behind, as though awaiting one of his famous meltdowns. He had had only three since his admittance, and he was quite proud of that fact. He rolled his eyes as he heard her sharp intake of breath. _As though I would be so predictable_ …, he scoffed, sitting in the reclining chair close by the window. _I wait until they don’t expect it, of course, or else it isn’t as amusing._ He crossed his ankles and folded his hands upon his lap, looking to those who did know him the perfect picture of patience and restraint.

The aid scoffed from the doorway.

“You don’t have to stay, darling,” he drawled, continuing his daily vigil. “I am more than capable of being a good lad for an hour or so if you have something more important to do, o’course,” Elton retorted, folding his arms across the ridiculous institute issued pajamas, never letting his gaze stray from the window.

“You know I can’t do that, Mr. John,” the woman stated, a touch of annoyance in her voice. “No matter how much we both wish differently.”

“More’s the pity,” he murmured, shutting his eyes. 

“I thought you’d be more interesting,” she continued.

Elton ignored her. He spent most of his days asleep in his bed or his recliner. His life had never been so boring, even when he was a wee lad, so yes, he was much more interesting than he led the aids believe. He just wanted to complete this stupid program so he could go back home. If that meant being a little boring, he could live with that.

He kept count of his days in the facility in the journal they gifted him on his first day of admission. The doctors stated it would be good for him to keep track of his progress in a more tangible way. Most entries read: _Dear stupid journal, thank God day such and such is over_ … 

They were not wholly amused by his lack of drive in his recovery.

He wished he could at least make a telephone call to speak with someone in the outside world for even a moment. _Your work should be the last thing on your mind, Mr. John,_ he was told over and over again. Hell, even his mum’s ridiculous anecdotes would mean news from the outside world. It would mean he wasn’t forgotten while he toiled through his withdrawals… It could almost mean he was loved... It would mean he wasn’t alone. 

_I never did do very well alone,_ he thought, before allowing the arms of sleep to wrap him up like an old friend. 


	13. The show must go on

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of Part One. I do hope you have enjoyed, and hope you will continue the series when I post part two. Thanks for reading!

Bernie didn’t know what to expect when he let himself in the front door of Elton’s home. The letter he received through the post was a simple missive. _I tried_ , was scrawled upon the ripped piece of loose leaf paper, stained with tears and just a bit of blood. If not for the years of reading over his Elton’s shoulder whilst he wrote down his scales and Bernie’s lyrics for future reference he might not have gathered just who wrote him. He couldn’t have been bothered to complete the envelope before dropping it in the post, it seemed. Or perhaps he didn't even mean to send it.

Weirder things have happened in the course of their friendship, of course. 

Bernie didn’t know if he was more annoyed at Elton or with himself for not checking in with him sooner. He told himself he had a good reason. Life as an official single father of two toddlers was difficult enough without _this_ wrench thrown in the mix.

He took the stairs two at a time, just wanting a quick look to ensure Elton was still alive. His children sat asleep in their car seats after three sleepless nights. _Look in, make sure he’s breathing, back home before they even wake up,_ Bernie reasoned, sticking his head through each door way he passed. _Then maybe they’ll nap even longer so I can get something done. I miss being able to get things done…_

As much as he groused to himself about the state of things, his life was better than he could ever remember. 

(Two failed marriages by the age of 24 and a suicidal best mate not withstanding.)

Bernie might not have known what to expect when he finally found Elton within the stupidly large manor-house he insisted on buying after officially making it in the industry, but he definitely didn’t expect to find him packing his clothes in the luggage he used specifically for taking on tour.

“Good to you see you, Bernie,” Elton said, folding a bedazzled jumpsuit carefully before placing it on top of the other ghastly and glittery ensembles he had dug out the back of his closet, without even turning to face him. “It never did take you long to come to my ‘rescue’, did it?”

“What are you doing, Reggie?,” Bernie asked softly, leaning against the door frame with his arms folded self-consciously across his chest.

“I thought it would be obvious, Bernie... I’m bloody packing,” Elton snapped, shutting the suitcase roughly and locking it. “I should ask you the same. Why the fuck did you let yourself into my house?,” he asked, as he opened another suitcase on top of his bed.

“I was worried after getting your letter, Reg. It was rather cryptic, wasn’t it?”

“Well, as you can see, I'm fine... I don’t really have time to catch up right now though, Bernie. The Starship leaves within the hour,” Elton said, walking towards his closet again.

“Reg, why are you doing this?”

“Doing what, Bernie?,” Elton called back to him as he gathered an armful of his best shoes.

Bernie groaned. “Don’t be obtuse, Reggie. It doesn’t suit you.”

“I’m doing ‘this’ as you so aptly put it because the show must go on. I’ve taken my rest at your request and now feel better than I have in years. John and I feel it is time to get back to work." Elton dumped the armful of shoes into the case. 

"John again? Really?"

"Go back to your simple life, Bernie, and leave me to mine,” Elton said, throwing the last bundle of clothes he couldn't fit in either the first or second suitcase on top of his shoes. He turned to face Bernie, who still stood in the doorway, his hands fisted at his sides. “No, really, you should go. John will be here shortly, and well... I’d rather not deal with unnecessary drama, if it’s all the same to you,” Elton continued, shoving Bernie gently out the door. 

He looked at Bernie, as though trying to memorize every bit of his face before he left him. Elton raised his hand to Bernie's face, caressing his cheek softly. “Goodbye, Bernie… Just remember I...”

Elton shook his head. He shut and locked his bedroom door. He sat on the edge of the bed and buried his face in his hands. _Thank you for always doing your best by me, Bernie. I am in love with you, too,_ Elton finished, before wiping his eyes with his handkerchief. _Maybe one day I'll actually have the guts to tell you myself..._


	14. Author's note

For anyone reading "The Shadow Darkens" I have taken it down to do some work on it. I will be reposting it soon.


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